


Earthly Delights on Borrowed Time

by matchstick_dolly



Series: 666 Fic [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Brave Chloe Decker, Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 13:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20426885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matchstick_dolly/pseuds/matchstick_dolly
Summary: Lucifer and Chloe try to make the best of their limited time on Earth.





	Earthly Delights on Borrowed Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arlome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arlome/gifts).

Lucifer loves to fly. It took him years to accept this about himself, but now flight is a ritual. He returns earthside every fortnight, filled to bursting with excitement and the taste of freedom. All that energy has to go somewhere. And so he starts in gentle, clean-scented clouds before moving on to other earthly delights. To a human woman's warm embrace, to soft linens and clean water, to music listened to and created, to sweets and melted butter.

He lands on silent feet on a stone patio that overlooks the city and tucks away alabaster wings. Chloe is there, clothed in a translucent chemise. As she rises from a lounge chair, they grin at each other, no less in love, despite the years and frequent, unfathomable distance.

"Welcome home," she says, opening her arms, and no matter how many times this moment repeats between them, it makes him want to weep.

He rests in her kiss, in warm and intimate familiarity. He knows her, and she knows him, and there's peace beneath the shade of their tree of knowledge.

"You're sweaty," she laughs across his lips, and pushes at him with no force.

"Ah," he laughs with her. "Just a bit of condensation. Went up to the troposphere."

Casual references to his divine and devilish sides no longer alarm her. They're simply filed away in her heart, which has his name branded upon it.

Smiling softly, she lifts fingers to the buttons of his damp dress shirt. Standing on tiptoe, she kisses the skin she reveals and licks away the dew of clouds.

"I've missed you," Lucifer whispers, sliding silk from her shoulders.

"I know," she soothes, drawing him close. "I missed you, too."

But it isn't the same—can't be. Weeks pass for her, years for him. And there is no end in sight to the agony. Well, except for the most obvious end of all, which they never, ever talk about.

Chloe takes him to bed, where their love is frenzied and desperate and full of pushing and pulling, until there's no distinguishing between the dampness of the heavens and the slick salt of feverish skin.

Deep in the night, when she's sore from pleasure, everything turns soft. They curl toward each other, sheets pulled up high, hands entwined, and catch up on each other's lives.

He's trying, so very hard, to change Hell, to expand the horizons of Lilith's naughty children.

She's struggling to solve the murder of a homeless man when the precinct doesn't want her "wasting time."

Later, she whispers the biggest news of all: "Trixie's pregnant."

An amusing array of emotions pass over Lucifer's face. "Well, if your offspring's child is half as smart as she was as an urchin, I'm sure it will be all right."

"I just can't believe I'm gonna be a grandma," Chloe sighs, and she flips onto her back. "I'm so old."

Lucifer snorts. "You are not."

"I look it."

"You're beautiful," he says, caressing the curve of her hip. "You _always_ will be to me."

Chloe rolls her eyes.

"You know I don't lie." Sitting up, he throws back the sheet and looks down at her, love and mischief in his eyes. "Let me tell you what I see."

He starts at the soles of her feet.

In the morning, they eat breakfast on the patio. Eggs cooked in truffle oil, ripe strawberries and blueberries, tender avocado and smoked prosciutto on fresh baked croissants. Honey and orange juice and Nutella and five different jams. Lucifer moans around his fork nearly as much as he did between Chloe's thighs.

The time they spend together is good and filled with laughter, so long as they can pretend he won't leave in two days, that they won't do this again in the next fortnight. Maybe God will finally deign to listen to a miracle's prayers.

But just in case he never does, Chloe Decker hoards her guilt, setting herself on a road paved with good intentions.


End file.
